


Hewn

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-13
Updated: 2011-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:06:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My Jack, forged in the furnace of his hard, painful life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hewn

_Igneous_

Jack is spread beneath me on his bed, arms above his head, fingers clutching at the rumpled sheets. I’m inside him, deep, holding, holding . I’m close.  It’s exquisite, Jack is all heat and fire, elemental. My Jack, forged in the furnace of his hard, painful life. He’s coiled and tight, and I want him to come ... I _need_ him to come first.

“Daniel,” he grinds out into the pillow. “Stop.”

“Fuck, Jack ... please.” I can’t think about my body’s needs. I’m too close. So I drink my fill of his body instead.  I love the line of his spine, so strong, straight and true. I love the drips of sweat that are racing each other to that beautiful place where back becomes ass. I bend and lick them away and the shift in angle touches something deep inside him and Jack groans.

“Please. Hold it there. Don’t move, don’t ...”

 _Sedimentary_

It’s hard to hear him plead. I just want to please him.

“Jack ... I’m so close.” And I am. I want to thrust deeper into this beloved body, want to claim it. Reclaim it. It was mine before I ascended. I want it back. I want him to cry out with the joy of being fucked and filled and loved again by me. I need to give him that.

“Stay in. There. Ngggh”. His hands are claws, twisting the cotton, straining impossibly hard not to come. His ass is squeezing my dick so tightly. He’s holding on with all his might _. Oh, baby, let go ... it’s me and I’m here,_ but I can’t say that. His vulnerability is as beautiful as it is painful. And I know I’ve given him the gift of being him. Of being the Jack that no one else ever gets to see. And being that Jack is his gift to me.

One push. One slight roll of my hips and I’ll come. I’ll come so fucking hard. “Christ, Jack.” I’m panting, sweat stings my eyes. I want gentle loving and aching tenderness. But right now that’s not us. This, _this_ is how this first time has to be.

“Have to feel you. Don’t come, don’t come. Please. Daniel. _God_.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” I breathe out slowly, once, twice.  I lay my body down on his, skin on skin, the full length of him, all sweat and heat. My hands twine with his and I hold on tight. Hold him together.

 _Metamorphic_

I kiss the sweat from the nape of his neck, nuzzle into the soft hair. I want to see his eyes so badly. More than that, I want him to see what’s in mine; love and thankfulness and a fierce possessiveness. I wasn’t the first to have this body but my god I want to be the last.

“Coming doesn’t mean leaving,” I whisper, mouthing the words into the curve of his ear.

“I was so empty, Daniel,” he whispers, so softly that I have to strain to hear. “So lost. I thought I understood loneliness.  I can’t ... be that way again. I can’t ...”

He’s losing it. I press my skull against his until it hurts. I can’t promise I’ll never go. No one can promise that, and I won’t say the easy things because we’re worth more than cheap, meaningless platitudes.

“Come for me,” I say, tasting salt on my lips that isn’t sweat.  “I’ll come when you come. I’ll stay in.  Until you tell me to pull out, okay? Okay? That’s all I can ...”

And he’s coming, the rush of tiny contractions in his ass preceding the crying out of my name, over and over again; broken and exultant.

And then I’m coming, pulsing hard and long and so, so sweetly.

“Daniel,” he says, again, on the cusp of exhausted sleep. My body blankets his. “Jack,” I say, against his skin, making him shiver. “My Jack.”

 

ends


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